


Jackie and Wilson

by amukmuk



Series: Playing in the Perception Pool [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of Hurt, Based on "Perception", Other, a lil comfort, deathsticks here are just cigarettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28384572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amukmuk/pseuds/amukmuk
Summary: Riyo and Ilona mourn.
Relationships: Riyo Chuchi & Original Character
Series: Playing in the Perception Pool [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078877
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Jackie and Wilson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redrobinhood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrobinhood/gifts).



> This was based off a prompt on tumblr from @redrobinhood for number 22 from my Spotify Wrapped Playlist. I know I posted this on tumblr a while ago, but it is getting added here finally! :3

Riyo pulls herself through the window and scurries up the fire escape, following the sounds of sniffling and the acrid odor of deathstick smoke. The sun is setting, leaving the air prickly, but the cold is welcome after being inside the smothering apartment - she assumes Ilona probably feels the same. 

“Hey,” Riyo says, as she hoists herself onto the roof. Ilona sits with her knees pulled up to her chest, her veil pushed back over her head, taking a drag from a deathstick. 

She only nods in greeting. 

“I thought you quit,” Riyo says instead of asking how she is doing. 

She knows exactly how she is doing. 

Ilona shrugs. “I’m not the first lady anymore; I can do whatever the hell I want.” 

Riyo only nods and holds out her hand. Ilona hands her the deathstick and Riyo takes a drag, only to sputter and gag. “Oh sweet goddess,” she mutters, returning the smoldering deathstick. 

To her genuine pleasure, Ilona cracks a smile and then immediately scowls. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant,” Ilona whispers. Below them they can hear the sounds of the funeral reception, weeping or laughter - maybe both - echoing up to them. 

“It’s okay.” Riyo can still feel Royan’s blood splattering across her face. She looks to her hands to separate herself from replaying the event over again. Every time she closes her eyes she can see it happening in slow motion. The echo of the shot firing out. The bolt going through the center of his forehead. The blood spraying Ilona– 

“You just look so much like him,” she rasps, her voice strained with tears unshed. “I can hardly look at you and not see him.” 

Riyo nods and accepts the offered deathstick once more. She holds it between her index and middle finger before taking a drag. “I feel the same way about you,” she says, watching the smoke float from between her lips. Ilona and Royan were going to have it all - he had just been elected their wedding was supposed to be yesterday. 

“I feel as though I should just bury myself alongside him,” Ilona whispers to the deathstick resting between her fingers once more. “There is no version of myself that exists wholly without him. We have been one for as long as I can remember.” 

Best friends throughout their childhood, lovers through adolescence, partners into adulthood. It had always been Ilona and Royan, Royan and Ilona. 

“You’re right,” Riyo mutters. She feels the same. She has never known a day without her older brother. His absence feels like a missing limb, like climbing the stairs only to miss the final one. “But we need to learn to honor his memory and… and craft new versions of ourselves that can do so.”

Ilona nods solemnly. “Can we do that together?”

“Like I would ever let you do it alone,” Riyo takes up her friend’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, mourning the lonely engagement ring upon her finger.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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